Not Like Any Other
by Twilight-Imp-626
Summary: A step-by-step progression of Vegeta and Bulma's relationship. Rating just to be safe, for brief, non-graphic instances of intimacy. VegetaxBulma VegeBul VB


_**Not Like Any Other**_

_With the completion of this story, I can officially say that my muse has returned. I have gotten back into the Dragonball Z fandom, with the help of the infamous Team Four Star. In case you haven't heard of them, go check them out at .com . Anyway, this fic is about how Bulma and Vegeta's relationship progressed throughout the series. The timeline starts during the Namek arc and ends after the defeat of Perfect Cell. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, kindly get the hell out of here and go watch some Dragonball Z. Now. Go on, scat. Why aren't you gone? Stop reading this! Don't make me come over there! That's right, keep going._

**Disclaimer**_: I do not own Dragonball Z. I started watching the series when I was really little. If I had been able to create such a kick ass show at that age, you would know my real name. XD_

* * *

1. **Strength**

He saw her trying to hide behind Kakarot and his disgustingly weak comrades. Her power level was insignificant, a smouldering cinder compared to the flickering candle flames of her human companions, the strong, steady glow of the Namekian, and the roaring infernoes that were himself, Kakarot, and the soft-hearted fool's offspring.

She cowered behind the group of fighters, cowering like a pathetic dog. She called out insults when she thought his attention was otherwise engaged, only to cringe when he turned and glared at her.

As the intensity of battles increased, he saw her fleeing, running as far as her scrawny legs would take her. He snorted, disgusted by such a pitiful display.

She was definitely the weakest woman he had ever known, even when compared to the Saiyan females that had waited on him hand and foot when he was a boy.

* * *

2. **Argument**

He tried to tune out her incessant screeching as he awaited Kakarot's return to Earth. She was fighting with the scar-faced human again. They were- what was the phrase humans used? In a relationship. Such a stupid, pointless ritual. All the simpering gestures of affection, the tiny, fragile tokens of _love_, and the constant bickering over a partner's fidelity. That was all that a _relationship_ consisted of. At least, if the relationship of these two was anything to go by.

Trying to drown out their annoying quarrel, he glared at the purple-haired youth, the one who had them all waiting in the middle of a barren wasteland in anticipation of Kakarot's arrival. The boy glanced away, embarassed to be caught sneaking looks at the older Saiyan.

As if she could tell that he wasn't paying attention to her anymore, she suddenly stepped into his line of vision, blocking the boy from sight. She scolded the older man, ordering him to leave the "poor boy" alone. He simply stared at her, dumbfounded, shocked that this weak human female, who used to quiver before him, now stood strong and proud, attempting to bend him to her will.

She definitely had more guts than any women he had known, attempting what only his father and Frieza had accomplished.

* * *

3. **Humor**

She laughed. He had threatened her with one of the most painful, gruesome, horrible deaths he could imagine, and she just laughed at him.

He had been lodging with the infuriating female and her parents for almost one Earth week, and the gravity chamber was still not complete. Just a little while longer, they told him. There's still a few bugs to work out, they told him. Every day, a new excuse, and he was fed up.

He found her sitting in the food preparation room- the kitchen, as they called it. She was thumbing through a magazine, sipping the dark, bitter liquid she called coffee. She looked up when she heard his approach, smiling in reply to his dark scowl. There was a quick, almost undetectable twisting sensation that passed through his stomach, but he ignored it. With his most superior look in place, her told her- no. He _ordered_ her to stop lazing about, and finish the gravity chamber within the hour, or he would throw each and every member of her pathetic family into the farthest reaches of outer space, and watch as their bodies exploded in the vacuum.

There was a single, glorious moment in which he believed he was victorious. The woman's expression showed her schock and disbelief, and he simply smirked in reply. He made to leave the room, certain that his demands would be met.

When the explosive laughter started, he could hardly believe his ears. He looked back at her, his usual dark demeanor replaced by pure astonishment. She was doubled over, laughing so hard that tears had collected in the corners of her eyes.

He still hadn't moved when she calmed herself down, several minutes later. She rolled up her magazine, tucked it under her arm, picked up her coffee cup, and walked out of the room, patting him on the head on her way out. As she passed her heard her say something about him being adorable when he tried to act like a bad ass.

He stayed in that same spot for a long while, trying to decide if what had happened was real, or some kind of twisted nightmare. No woman, not even Kakarot's slightly unstable wife, had ever dared to laugh at him. He was the Prince of All Saiyans, a conqueror of worlds and destroyer of planets, yet he had failed to intimidate this confusing, weak, female human.

She was definitely one of the bravest- or maybe just the most insane- woman he had ever known.

* * *

4. **Damage**

He lay beneath a pile of metal, circuit boards, and wires, coughing as he inhaled a cloud of dust and smoke. He could hear the far-off cries of alarm, muffled by the debris stacked on top of him. His limbs ached from both the force of the explosion and his own excessive training.

He tensed his muscles, preparing to throw the rubble off of his body, but stopped when he heard another voice, much closer than the others. It was _her_ voice. He heard her start to dig through the remains of the gravity chamber, struggling to move the largers parts. She kept talking- yelling, really- as she searched for him, telling him not to panic, assuring him he would be free soom.

He longed to say something back, to snarl at her and tell her he didn't need her help. Unfortunately, an inconveniently positioned metal panel was pressing down on his abdomen, limiting his ability to draw in the breath he needed to form words. Besides, if he yelled at her now, while she was already panicking, he was likely to upset her even more. He didn't actually care about her ridiculously fragile emotional state. But he had learned that she was more likely to repair the gravity chamber if she was in a better mood. And, despite the fact that the damned machine had managed to injure him _slightly_, he needed it if he wanted to be anywhere near ready to face the androids. Or beat Kakarot, for that matter.

For a single heartbeat, he considered freeing himself from the reckage. But when he took the woman's close proximity, and what extra destruction he would cause in the process, he decided that his energy would be more useful if it was conserved for a more productive activity.

So he waited through the destruction to find him. He added a little of his own strength to her feebleness as she made to remove the last few metal scraps from his torso. He took several deep breaths of clear, fresh air as soon as his head was freed.

She was furious. She couldn't believe that he had destroyed weeks of planning, calculating, and construction in a matter of minutes. She would never let him live this down for as long as he lived, which couldn't be very long, considering his near-suicidal training and fighting methods.

At least, that was what she said out loud. Her eyes betrayed her relief when he was uncovered, and her growing astonishment and fear as he stood up, announcing that he wasn't done training for the day.

He vaguely remembered the feeling of his legs giving out, the sight of the ground rushing towards him, and the sound of her voice, rising in pitch, calling his name frantically as everything went dark.

When he woke up, he was lying in the small bed that had become his while he stayed with the woman. It took him several long minutes to collect his thoughts, and assess his body's status. Every muscle ached, and he was acutely aware of the bandages wrapped over his skin. There was a faint, lingering scent that burned his nostrils. He recognized it as the alcoholic liquid the woman often used to clean the miniscule wounds her idiot lover managed to accumulate during his training.

A soft exhalation of breath made him realize that he was not alone. He turned his head towards the source of the noise and saw her sitting at the desk beside him, head pillowed by her arms as she slept.

He watched her carefully as he sat up, listening to his bones creak and muscles scream. Yet she looked even more exhausted than he felt. He snorted disdainfully at her weakness, preparing to get up and leave the room to train, but stopped when he saw her hands. The usually smooth skin was covered in a plethora of tiny scratches. A few of her perfectly manicured nails were chipped, and one had been torn off completely, exposing the red, raw skin underneath. Her fingertips were stained with dried blood, and he was certain that it didn't all belong to her.

He was a little surprised by the extent of her treatment. Had it been any of Kakarot's other friends, he would have been lucky to have a sensu bean shoved down his throat before being sent on his way.

She shifted in her sleep, mumbling unintelligibly, and he felt the same, odd sensation in his stomach again. He quickly shook it off, glaring in her direction.

She had more audacity that any other woman, daring to touch the Saiyan prince while he slept.

* * *

5. **Collision**

He heard the shouting match between her and the idiot, but didn't come to understand its repercussions until later. The weakling- or as she now liked to call him, "_That lying, cheating, unfaithful, untrusting, untrustworthy bastard_!"- stopped calling her incessantly, stopped coming to her home, and generaly stopped annoying all of them.

He had to admit, the cold fury that burned just beneath her surface was something he could recognize and appreciate. Her anger flared whenever someone mentioned the fool's name, lashing out with sharp looks and sharp words. She made one, feeble attempt to slow down his training, telling him that he would kill himself if he didn't take a break. He glared, and she glared back. After that, she made it a point to ignore him. No more bubbly chatter, no more annoying nagging, and no more pointless scoldings. It was like some twisted god had finally decided to answer his prayers.

Or so he thought. The longer her indifference lasted, the more he found it irked him. He didn't miss her constant attempts to befriend him, but being ignored was something he wasn't used to, especially not on a planet that he had almost destroyed.

The day finally came when she didn't even bother coming to check her precious invention. Her parents and their underlings picked up the slack, performing the necessary routine maintenance in the woman's stead. Now, he was lucky to see her even once a day. His own temper started to rise. No matter what had happened with her former lover, it gave her no right to give him the cold shoulder. As the days passed, he started trying to draw her into some kind of argument, growing even more infuriated when these attempts failed as well.

Two weeks passed before he became completely fed up. He waited until a few hours after night had fallen to go to her room. As annoying as she was, he had made it a point to know her schedule, so that he could head her off and make one demand or another, so he knew she was sure to be there. He headed for the building where he room was located, one of the less occupied one on the complex, most likely because she and the fool had wanted their privacy.

He knocked on the door three times, then stood back, crossing his arms over his chest as he listened to the soft footsteps drawing closer on the other side. She opened the door with a puzzled look on her face, which hardened into a glare when she saw who had interrupted her peace. Her hair hung down to her shoulders, flat and only slightly disheveled. For once, there was not a single trace of make-up on her face, and she wore only a large, baggy Capsule Corp t-shirt that stopped at the middle of her thighs.

Despite her vulnerable appearance, her gaze held no fear as she asked what he wanted. His scowl deepened as he told her that he was tired of being treated like a piece of human refuse, and that she was to stop playing such a ridiculous game. Her gaze became icy as she denied any knowledge of such an act, and told him that the only difference between his behavior and her behavior was that she actually treated _some_ people with the respect they deserved. Just like another arrogant, womanizing man she knew.

He snarled, pushing her back into the room as he began his tirade. How dare she talk to him in such a way? How dare she treat him, a prince among his own people, like a simple commoner? And how dare she compare him to someone as stupid and weak as the scar-faced fool, who probably couldn't even satisfy a back-alley whore?

She laughed again, a challenging tone in her voice as she firmly stated that he was, more than likely, even less capable. thout a moment's hesitation, he vowed to show her just how capable he was. He grabbed her by the hair on the back of her head and crushed their lips together with bruising force.

The rest of the night was a blur of skin, heat, cries of passion, desperate please, intense focus, grasping hands, surging hips, and the unique feeling of everything she was.

When he woke the next morning, she was spooned against his side, soft curves conforming to the hard planes of his body like a living, breathing puzzle piece. The clock on her bedside table and the sunlight streaming in through the window told him that it was past the time he usually began his training. Yet, as she shifted beside him, her bare skin sliding against his own, he thought that maybe, just maybe, taking a break wouldn't be so bad. After all, even a Saiyan's body needed time to recuperate every now and again. He yawned, settling his chin on top of her head as he started to close his eyes again.

She was definitely one hell of a woman, and probably the only one of her sex that could stall his training.

* * *

6. **Offspring**

It cooed. It giggled. It gurgled. It whimpered. It cried. It screamed. And it annoyed the hell out of him.

When he finally returned to the miserable little planet, his first stop after saving Kakarot's pitiful life was the woman's home. Everyone greeted him with awkward smiles and a quick "Welcome back," before making some excuse to scurry away. He walked the now familiar pathway to the main building, following the slight pulse of her power level, as weak as it may have been. He didn't actually care if she knew he had returned or not, but the shred of princely manners that had survived the years of torture under Frieza demanded that he greet his hosts upon returning to their home.

As he walked into the kitchen, his senses were assaulted by the smell of cooking food and the sound of bright, innocent laughter. He turned towards the source of the noise, and saw a small, chubby infant sitting in a strange, desk-like stool. There was a tuft of purple hair sticking out from under the rim of its ridiculous cat-eared hat, and its angled eyes were smiling. The little creature was throwing bit of dry cereal about, squealing with excitement when they hit the floor. It noticed him after a few seconds, reaching out to grab him, even though there was a considereable distance between them. He took a step back, uncomfortable with setting foot in this uncharted territory.

Then he saw her, and he didn't understand how he had missed her in the first place. Not when she was standing right in front of him, leaning confidently against the stove. Her hair was shorter than he remembered, and no longer so ridiculously styled. Her clothing was different, too. But there was something else, something else that had changed. Her body seemed to be slightly more curved than it had been before his departure, but that still wasn't it. There was something softer about her, about the way she presented herself.

The little brat let out a loud squawk, as if trying to remind them that it was still there. He watched, astonished, as her guarded expression suddenly disappeared, replaced by a tenderness he hadn't thought her capable of. She walked over to the child, wiggling her fingers at it and calling its name softly. When he had recovered a little, he asked her why she was lavishing the little creature with affection. Without taking her eyes off of it, she cooly replied that it was her son.

He laughed, trying to fill the pit that suddenly formed in the bottom of his stomach. He asked why the boy's father wasn't strutting around with the child in his arms, showing him off to anyone who had the time to stop and stare. She giggled, and the pit became deeper. His father wasn't the type to act so proud, she told him. His father hadn't even known about the child's existence until he showed up at her home unexpectedly and saw it for the first time.

There was a mischievious twinkle in her eyes as she said all of this, and he felt like he was missing something. Still, he watched the two of them interact, slightly disgusted as he had been by the way she practically drooled all over her former idiot of a lover. He couldn't believe that a proud lioness of a woman could become a soft, simpering kitten in his absence.

She was definitely a strange woman, if she was able to transform herself so drastically in such a short period of time.

* * *

7. **Finale**

It was over. It was finally over. The androids, Cell; all of them had been defeated. The little blue planet that he had (grudgingly) become fond of was safe once more.

She was weak. A scrawny, fragile thing that could be broken with the smallest effort. She couldn't even assist him during the fights that had scarred the Earth's surface, only offering encouragement beforehand, accompanied by the occasional threat of what she would do to him in the afterlife if he didn't return. Though she would never admit it out loud, she needed someone to protect her. And though he would never admit it, he wanted to be the one protecting her. Kakarot was gone, and his puny comrades couldn't bear the burden alone. So the Saiyan prince took it upon himself to keep one iota of his attention focused on this particular female.

Months after the final confrontation, the two of them stood together before an elderly man in strange robes, and a large collection of her family and friends (he refused to call them anything but his acquaintances). The recited the words they had learned beforehand. They kissed, everyone cheered, and a large party was held afterwards. Everyone drank, danced, sang, and laughed. She stayed close to him, head held high, practically glowing with happiness, and he even allowed himself to smirk proudly.

That night, he refamiliarized himself with the feminine body he had never really forgotten. As they lay together in the afterglow, listening to the quiet sounds their son made in his sleep through the small transmitter on the bedside table, he thought that maybe, just maybe, being married wasn't such a grim prospect.

So he fell asleep, tightening his arm around the woman beside him, who was, truly, not like any other.


End file.
